Rit wasted no time in proving her very, very wrong.
Scream she did, yelping sharply at that first hard thrust and sinking her nails into Rit's back in reflex. It was pleasure and pain combined, and for a moment Song feared he might keep that pace straight out of the gates. Which, while she liked a hard fuck, she didn't think she was quite ready for that yet! But then he was gentle--point proven--and she relaxed again, eased her grip on him and let out a shuddering breath. It was a taste of things to come, and she looked forward to that, but she appreciated his slower pace as her body adjusted to the sheer size of him. She clung to him, biting back gasps and quiet whimpers as he worked her, slow and steady, and she was passive and still at first until the initial discomfort began to fade.
When she no longer felt like he would split her in half, she began to move, rolling her hips up against him, testing the limits, moaning at the way even small angle adjustments sent spikes of pleasure through her. But just when she started to get a good rhythm, Rit changed pace and her gasps sharpened and turned to a surprised yelp, and then a cry, her body tensing and hands clawing at his back when he began to pound her, gentleness gone. But she was ready for it then, craving it, though nothing could have prepared her for the intensity of being filled so completely.
Scream she did.
She bit his shoulder, raked her nailed up his spine and left behind red welts and a little less skin. It was too much, too intense, but Inima, she didn't want him to stop, not ever. She writhed and bucked beneath him, head thrown back with ragged cries and screams, her breath coming too short, her heart beating too fast--and then Rit's mouth was on hers, swallowing her screams, stealing her air, and her head swam dizzily.
But it was that excitement, that unexpected move, that pushed her over.
Song arched sharply, crying out against his lips as her body seized and shuddered, but he didn't stop like she expected he might. Most men she'd been with didn't last this long; the more gentlemenly ones got her off first and were quick to follow. But before she knew it, still trembling from her release, another one followed as he angled his cock just right and she scratched and bit him, gasping and sobbing against his mouth, body and mind both screaming that it was too much, too intense, even as she begged for more with the rocking of her hips.
But then he stopped and lifted her, and she slumped against him as he lifted her on his cock. Spirits, how did he still have the energy? She felt light-headed, her vision starting to swim, and it was all she could do to wrap her arms around his shoulders, her legs around his waist, and let him do as he pleased as she moaned against his neck. For a moment, despite the cool water easing her dizziness, she thought she must have blacked out as the pleasure burst and stole her breath, for the next thing she knew she was whimpering against him as her body trembled, her sex clenching around him.
She was still shaking when he set her down, and he didn't have to tell her to kneel, because her legs buckled and did it for her. She stared up at him, dazed, chest heaving with panted breaths. How...how had he still not come? She wasn't complaining. Not at all. But...
She wasn't sure she could handle more.
Even though she craved it.
And she had a feeling she knew what he wanted from her now.
Lips still tingling from his kiss, body hypersensitive from her climaxes, she raised up on her knees a little more and took his cock in hand. She didn't hesitate as she slipped the tip into her mouth, arousal making her hungry for it. She wasn't about to cry uncle, not after issuing such a bold challenge to him--even if she had already lost.